This is a one-shot!

Disclaimer: I do not own Wolverine and the X-Men.

Summary: What was going through Emma's mind as she risked her life for everyone… especially Scott.

Author's Notes: This takes place on the very last episode of season one of Wolverine and the X-Men, the episode "Foresight III". Also, I just wanted to write a fic that wasn't completely centered on Kitty or X-Men: Evolution. And, besides, Emma is, like, my favourite character on Wolverine and the X-Men. So, I decided to write this!

And, personally, I don't think that it's that good.

But, whatever. I wrote, so I'm posting it, regardless of what I think of it.

(Told in Emma's POV)

It was terrible.

Horrible.

Awful.

And totally impossible to describe.

I stood there, taking what was about to be excruciating in. At first, it wasn't too bad. I actually would have enjoyed having that power, if I didn't know what it was about to do to me. What went from tolerable went to exhilarating, and then downright indescribably painful.

The Phoenix was now a part of me.

It coursed through my veins.

It was flowing in my blood.

It was controlling, or trying to control, me.

I wouldn't let it. Or so I thought.

I was breathing it, living it, or, rather, it was breathing me and it was living me.

It was pumping through me, trying to break free.

But I wasn't about to let that happen.

I felt my insides wrench together as it tried to find a way out of my crystalline form.

Then I felt it.

My crystal skin started to crack in multiple places, but I didn't panic. Though the thought did pass through my head about three-hundred times in that one moment. I'm going to die. If I could of, I would have cried, but I couldn't, and not just because of my mutation right at the moment.

Not yet.

Not now.

Not ever, actually.

I had to be strong, even if he hated me. I did set myself up for it; he would have found out somewhere along the line.

I was jolted out of disturbing reverie as my stomach started to crack open.

Oh… god. It was… impossible.

To describe, that is.

It was gut-wrenching, organ-twisting, mind-numbingly impossible to describe.

I held onto myself tightly, trying to maintain the Phoenix for as long as I could.

They just had to get Jean as far from it… me… as possible.

I gathered enough composure and physical strength to look up from my double over-ed position, and what I saw pained me, even more.

All of the damage the Phoenix had done.

Everything was trashed.

Cars thrown on top of buildings, broken glass lying everywhere, streetlights toppled over, and other random things strewn about.

I saw the Stepford Cuckoos laying on the sidewalk, unconscious, and I felt awful.

It was all my fault.

This was all my fault.

I glanced to where Jean was, standing behind Scott, staring, mortified, at me.

If I could of, I would have gotten into her mind to try to find out what she was thinking of me.

She actually, through all of what had happened earlier, looked worried and scared for me.

I was sorry for what I did to her.

Terribly.

Then, I heard him.

"Emma?"

My eyes shot from Jean's face to Scott's.

My attention went from Scott to the ever-increasing pain again.

I shook it off.

This was not about me.

This was about Jean and Scott.

"Get… Jean… out of here, Scott." I tried to say this coldly, to try to get him to obey, but it was hard to say something like that coldly if not at all to someone you lo-- "I'm not sure how long I can contain it."

Though I could not actually see his eyes, I could sense, even in my crystal form, them flashing with fear and tears.

That wasn't something I was proud of.

I shivered involuntarily. For something that was so fire-related and symbolized like the Phoenix, it was strangely glacial.

"What are you going to do?" Scott cried.

I forced myself to choke out, "I'm going to try to release it."

I convulsed again, each time more violent and jerky than the last.

Scott looked at me, and started to walk closer to me.

I looked pointedly at Logan, who ran at Scott and pushed him back.

I turned myself away and bent myself over, to look away from Scott.

"Summers, she knows what she's doing!" said Logan hoarsely, but gently, in a way, though I noticed his voice break a little bit in between. "Now let's go!"

Scott struggled against Logan's hold, but Logan was strong.

Very strong.

Well, physically.

Maybe not so much emotionally.

He couldn't get past him, regardless of how much he screamed and squirmed.

And then the Phoenix had just had enough of me.

I gasped as it flooded me completely, and then threw everything it had at me.

All of its power, force, and energy was flung at me, cracking my crystal skin, especially in my abdomen area.

I gasped again, despite myself.

I tried to make no noise or sudden movements, to make it sound and look as painless as possible so no one would worry or try to stop me.

But how can you hold back saying or doing anything when something like that is taking over you?

It consumed me wholly, and then it finally decided it was done with me.

I was fighter, or at least I liked to believe that I was.

But this… this was too much for me.

I gave up my fight against it, regardless of what I wanted at all.

I wanted to protect them, to hold it in as long as I could.

But it was impossible for me.

I'm weak. I decided this mentally, even though that was not at all true, I was in too much pain to give a hoot about anything.

And that was that.

My entire front cracked open, and I gasped again.

Logan and Scott looked at me, and Scott cried out my name once again.

"Emma!"

I knew he was worried about me, I just wouldn't allow myself to accept it.

You betrayed him, one part of my mind said.

And now I'm making up for that, I answered back coldly. With my life.

Like that will make him forgive you, the other part of my mind spat at me mentally.

My breathing was laboured and heavy as my neckline started to crack with the rest of my body.

This was it.

I was done for.

My chest was shining with a bright light: the Phoenix showing off its powers while getting out of me and destroying me bit by bit, all at the same time.

I looked around one last time.

I looked at Jean one last time, she still looked genuinely scared for me.

That didn't make me feel any better.

Before I had joined the X-Men, I would have enjoyed making her look scared of me, but this wasn't that kind of scared.

The light was visibly shooting out of the multiple fractures in my skin and the clear crystal of my entire body.

I then looked at Logan.

The man who had publicly announced that he hated me was now looking like he wanted to be my place to protect me right now.

That wasn't the Logan I knew, but it was the Logan I loved.

Then I looked at him.

Scott.

Through his visors, tears welled up in his eyes, and fell down his face.

Oh.

I breathed out painfully.

He did care.

Well, it was a little late for that. From me, I mean.

I turned to him and said, my English accent thick and laced with pain, "Scott, please forgive me."

And I… I love you, I added to myself mentally.

But that… that didn't matter anymore.

Not to me.

Not to him.

Or, so I thought.

I never found out how he felt, but I sure knew how I felt.

That one thing was for very much sure.

I loved him.

I loved him very, very much.

"Emma..." he cried softly once again, tears now falling visibly down his face.

He did care.

Yes, he did.

It was now all clear.

And, if you wanted to pun it, in my case, crystal clear.

Crystal clear.

I love you, I said once more mentally.

And…

Then… it all went absolutely white.

White.

That's all I remember, because, then I died.

Crystal clear...

The End... until Season 2 comes out, then we'll find out what truly happens to Emma.